


In Bad Taste

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Acquired Taste, Birthday Present, Broadening Palate, Cultural Differences, Failed Diplomacy, Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:03:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: A young Jon receives a Tusaine delicacy for his birthday.





	In Bad Taste

In Bad Taste

“Do you know what that is?” Gary gestured at the box of delicacies Jon had received from the Tusaine ambassador in honor of his eleventh birthday that was resting with a disquieting innocence on the table in Jon’s room. 

“It’s escargot.” Apparently pleased at having knowledge Gary didn’t, Jon stuck his nose in the air smugly. “The Tusaine ambassador told me it has a buttery and garlicky taste.” 

“Obviously it’s escargot.” Gary rolled his eyes to rid his cousin of the delusion that he had information Gary lacked when it was likely he who was the ignorant one. “My question is if you know what escargot is.” 

“It’s the finest food Tusaine has to offer, the ambassador explained to me.” Jon’s haughtiness assured Gary that his cousin did, indeed, not understand that escargot was a fancy, misleading term for snails. Escargot, as far as Gary was concerned, was worse than lipstick on a pig. 

“It’s snails.” Gary bluntly stripped away the veneer. “Tusaine, it turns out, doesn’t have much fine food to offer.” 

“It’s not snails.” Jon shook his head as if to dislodge the revolting idea of eating snails. “Adults don’t eat snails. Only curious little children crawling around in a garden eat snails.” 

“Only curious children and adults from Tusaine eat snails,” Gary corrected, tart and crisp as an autumn apple. “The difference is that curious children are smart enough to call snails disgusting after they eat them, while the Tusaine adults praise their sophisticated taste.”

“You’re lying about escargot being snails because you’re jealous that I got a birthday gift from the Tusaine ambassador, and you didn’t.” Jon folded his arms across his chest.

“I’d rather not receive a present than get snails.” Gary snorted. 

“My parents would warn me if escargot were snails.” Jon’s eyes were suspicious slits. 

“No, I’m afraid they wouldn’t. I happened to overhear”–Gary drew himself up proudly as he used his customary euphemism for eavesdropping–“them saying that they felt you needed to broaden your palate. I bet they believe eating snails would broaden your palate. I’m the only one you can count on to tell you the truth, and here you are treating me like dirt instead of as your most faithful friend.”

Jon, however, seemed so fixated on proving Gary wrong about escargot being snails that he ignored Gary’s comment, and, eyes alight with defiance and determination, popped an escargot in his mouth. Following a moment of fierce chewing and hacking into a handkerchief, the defiance and determination blazing in Jon’s eyes were replaced by disgust and defeat. 

“Gross.” Jon coughed out the words. “Tastes slimy like...” 

“Snails,” Gary finished with a cheery clap on his cousin’s shoulder when Jon seemed too revolted to complete the thought. “Now you can’t claim I didn’t warn you, but at least your palate has been broadened.”


End file.
